Soundly Sleepless
by Mustardlover16
Summary: Clary's having trouble sleeping after all the events passed. Thankfully Jace knows just how to cure that. Fluff galore. Written after City of Heavenly Fire. NO SPOILERS.


There was a soft knock at Jace's bedroom door. He had no doubt it was Clary. Alec's knock would have been more cautious, but louder at the same time. Isabelle wouldn't bother knocking, just burst through with a confident strut. "Come in, Clary," He called out. The others would be asleep, but their rooms were quite a bit down the hall- Jace had a tendency to kick out during the night and his bed was always against the wall, bringing his next door neighbors sleep as fitful as his own.

She only partially opened the door and stuck her head in to glance around. Jace was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. His finger held his place in a large book that rested in his lap. She bit her lip sheepishly, and with her gaze to the floor said, "I'm sorry."

He rolled his amber eyes and tossed his book across the room. It landed on the armchair. "Don't be so stupid. C'mere." She slipped in, wearing a forest green tank top and shorts. He patted the bed in between his spread legs and she complied, facing the door as he had been and resting her back against his chest. Jace wore a faded light blue t-shirt, soft to the touch. Blue, Clary noticed, was a color contrary to what he normally wore, probably because it brought out the color of his eyes and hair, making him even more noticeable that usual.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Jace asked her, pressing his cheek to hers from behind.

"Is it that obvious?" She asked helplessly. Her shoulders sagged with embarrassment.

"Don't avoid the question. Why couldn't you sleep? More nightmares?"

"No. I didn't even get to sleep long enough to have a nightmare."

Jace pulled away to the side a bit, trying to get a better view of her face. His eyebrows were pulled together in concern. Clary made a mental note to try to draw his face with that expression. Then again, she'd been seeing that look a lot lately, and it wasn't a look likely to go away forever. She reached up and tried to pull his eye brows apart, and back to their original place, high above his eyes. He resisted. "Clary...Why can't you sleep?"

"If I knew that, I'd probably be solving that problem now, instead of loafing around your bedroom." He didn't seem satisfied with her answer. "I don't know. Worry, I guess."

"About what?"

"You. Simon. Mom and Luke. Everything." She hung her head in defeat. He pulled her against him, wrapping his strong arms around her small frame. It was times like these that she wished she could walk everywhere while hugging Jace. Everything would be less painful if she could just get a Jace hug whenever she felt like it. In fact, if the rest of the world found out how great Jace's hugs were, she'd be fighting off a majority of the world's population.

"You want to stay in here tonight?"

"Every time I do that I feel like I'm exploiting you. And your extremely comfortable bed."

"If exploitation was always this cozy, most people probably wouldn't mind." His mouth was bland but he winked at her regardless.

They stayed that way for a long while. Clary let her head fall back onto Jace's shoulder. "I'm never going to sleep again."

Jace jumped off the bed lithely, motioning for her to stay put. She did. He crossed the room in two short strides and began rummaging through his desk drawer. He returned with a leather bound drawing pad, high grade charcoal pencils, and shading utensils. He grinned toothily as her eyes bulged in surprised.

"Jace! What the heck? I- Where? I..." He chuckled. She had set the art supplies in her lap and was admiring them, running her fingers over the embroidered drawing pad, opening the box of pencils and shading sticks.

"I was going to give them to you for Christmas. Drawing relaxes you. Crack them open and break them in a bit." She glanced up at him with wild eyes.

"I'm getting no sleep more often."

He shook his head, laughing again.

She wasted no time in reverently laying out her new treasures. He returned to where he had been sitting. Clary promtly leaned into him, using him as her back rest once more. She pecked him on the cheek, then leaned the side of her head into his.

"What should I draw? The first drawing in here has to be special."

"Is that a thing? I might have ruined it."

She jumped to open it. What she saw made her heart clench with happiness. It was a some what cartoon like drawing, but there was no mistaking the subject. It was a black pencil drawing of Clary, curled hair, freckles and all, glancing over her shoulder, mid speech and smiling.

"How did you do this?"

"I took a couple of drawing classes. I thought it might be neat."

Clary sighed contently, then seemed to realize something, and groaned. "What?" Jace asked good naturedly.

"Why do you have to be so good at _everything_ couldn't you leave me one thing?" She whined jokingly. While the drawing was quite good, both knew it was not to the same caliber as Clary's realistic charcoals.

"I'm sorry, I can't help being talented, good looking, and amazing. It just happens. Really, you should be thankful. I'm the perfect guy, all around."

She laughed but when she spoke she was as sincere and heart felt as could be possible, " I know. I am lucky. Thank you."

It was his turn to kiss her on the cheek. "All in a day's work, Clary. He nuzzled up into her neck. "I love you."

She reached for his hand, the one wrapped around her waist. (The other was behind him, supporting them both.) Entertwining their fingers, she replied, "I love you too."

Leaving her hand in his, she reached for her new sketch book and pencils. She opened up to the second page after quickly pausing to once again admire Jace's drawing. Jace watched her work, resting his chin on her shoulder and glancing down as she bent over the sketch pad.

After just a few seconds it was clear she was drawing their hands, clasped tightly together. In her drawing, just as in real life, her own knuckles rounded softly, her fingers thin and short. In contrast his knuckles were squarish and scarred. His fingers reached much farther down her hand that hers did on his. Clary always noticed this, saw it as a protective assuring little truth of life. It was something only someone with an artists' eye could pick out.

She finished her quick sketch in minutes. She held it to the side, allowing Jace to get a better look at it. He gave an approving 'hmm'. "It's cute," he murmured appreciatively.

"I'm still not tired." She grunted in an exasperated tone. Jace stifled a yawn.

"I don't mind. Stay as long as you want. Draw another picture." While she said she wasn't tired, Jace knew from experience it would only be a matter of time. One or two more pictures and she'd be out like a light. She was already slumping into him a bit more than usual, her eyelids rested only slightly lower than usual. Yep. Only a matter of time.

She nodded, she would draw another picture. What else was there to do?

"What should I draw?"

"Me."

"You always say that."

"Us, then."

She shrugged, then nodded. "Okay."

She began with his jaw. Then erased it. She tried again. And again. And again. "Damn." She whispered. She leaped up and shouldered Jace's jaw in the process.

"Ow." He complained.

She darted back and pecked the spot she had hit. "Sorry. It's giving me problems." She dashed for the door the glanced back jerkily. "Be right back." She said.

He heard her light, padding footsteps retreating down the hall. "Ow." He muttered to himself, rubbing his jaw. She darted back in, careful to shut the door quietly, and bounded back to the bed. Jace was still nursing his jaw. She grabbed his chin the her finger tips and turned his head the side. There was a red mark on his jaw (probably from him rubbing it so much) but she pressed her lips the spot carefully anyway.

When she pulled away he searched her face, her eyes. He leaned in, prompting her to do the same. Their lips met briefly, sweetly. When he opened his eyes, she had already pulled away slightly and was studying his jaw. Then she repositioned, pressing her spine into his chest. He was comfortable despite all the hard muscle.

She pulled out what she had carried back into the room with her- a hand mirror. "Hold this." She demanded. She thrust the thing into his fist.

"Clary, I know we joke about me being vain all the time, but this a whole new level."

"No," She said , "I need to see you so I can draw you. You're face is being difficult to draw today."

"And you couldn't just sit across from me and do that?" He questioned dubiously.

"I was-and am- comfortable, thank you very much," she said somewhat peevishly. It was all in good fun, he knew. No sleep was taking it's toll, but Jace wasn't worried. She never let it _really_ get to her.

"Okay." He said submissively.

Through the mirror he could see her eyes flash to the mirror every few seconds. It was kind of funny, actually. Now he could watch the concentration on her face, see her eyebrows bob and weave and she mulled over how to paint her picture, so to speak. He even saw the moment when she figured it out. Her eyes widened, she smiled and she raced to get it on the page. Her satisfaction was evident. She moved on to his forehead- she drew it with ease. She moved on this his ears. She grunted.

"Are my ears giving you trouble?"

"No, it's your damn cheek bones. They're so..."

"Awesome?"

"...Sure."

He chuckled as her pencil once again moved across the paper. Her fingers twitched around the pencil, her tendons and veins took turns taking definition under her skin as she manipulated it.

After a few minutes all that was left to sketch was his hair. She moved on to her own reflection. She had drawn many a self portrait for her art classes in the past. Flawlessly and easily she detailed her jaw, ears, forehead and cheeks. She gave extra attention to her eyes, just as she had with Jace's. Both had smile lines showing in her depiction, exactly as they were in the mirror.

Jace nuzzled into her neck. The slight curve at the corner of his mouth, the shape of her eyes, then lines in his forehead, everything was perfectly descriptive of how he felt right now. Content. No, scratch that. Happy as high heaven and purely overjoyed to be _here _and _now._

Clary's hand began to slow. It was the beginning of the end. Though slow, her movements were still precise. He pressed his mouth into her hair. It smelled like cinnamon. He smiled against the top of head. Then he realized her drawing was finished. He peaked over the top of her head to see it. It was almost a bit creepy to see them immortalized to such a minute detail.

"It's beautiful, Clary." It was a masterpiece for all ages. She didn't answer. "Clary?" Her head was still leaned against his collarbone, but her eyes had shut and her hands had drooped. He caught the sketch pad as it fell off the bed nimbly while he tried to keep her upright. Upon meeting this goal, he took one last, long look at the picture, closed the notebook and set it on his nightstand. He gathered the other supplies and did the same. Then he clicked off the bedside lamp and carefully, oh so carefully lowered he and the sleeping Clary down.

He repositioned slightly, moving his arm around her waist and pulling her head to his chest. "Night, Clary. I love you."

"I love you." She murmured back, pressing her head into his chest.

He smiled. If only Clary was awake to draw this.


End file.
